under the bridge

longingly he speaks
of the fish he caught
before dark.
along the river, hip deep
in water,
he says how silver it was
under the bridge.
how it fought for its life.
struggled
not to drown in the air
it rose into.
he talks about how gently
he carved it in two.
the head off, it's
belly opened by his sharp
knife.
the bones separated by his
hands with care.
with love he talks
about this fish,
how it crackled over the fire.
the butter it absorbed,
how it tasted
on his dry lips.
and then with his belly
full, and drink
in hand, he spoke of
how wonderful the world
is when in love.